


What a Show Off

by rbcch



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pearl curses quite a bit, Pearl is mildly annoyed all the time, SO MUCH FLUFF, Violet is a little shit, and addresses Violet by the last mame, five times fic, i don't even know how to tag this this is so atypical for me, i love all the queens, i made myself sick writing it, no t no shade, where is all the angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-27 18:03:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12086418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rbcch/pseuds/rbcch
Summary: Five things Pearl realises about Violet, and one thing that he realises about himself.Or, Violet is a tease and Pearl is constantly sexually frustrated.





	What a Show Off

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I needed to mend my poor little Pearlet heart after the fuckery that was my last fic and also I felt like I have a huge writer's block so I guess this happened. I am not sorry. Okay, I ama little bit sorry. This is just a quick drabble and I'm not even sure if I'm happy with this.

**I**

The very first thing Pearl realises about Violet is that Violet is a fucking show off.

It’s their first challenge and they’re all changing into their fall looks and Pearl is trying not to trip over his own heels or get stuck in the fabric of his skirt that is simultaneously flowing everywhere and clinging to him. Whatever made him think that putting on heels first and only then trying to wiggle into his skirt was a genius idea is beyond him at this point, but he’s not going to admit to his mistake and take off his shoes anymore. Violet walks past him wearing nothing but a piece of duct tape and a microphone and still managing to look like he owns everything and Pearl actually trips over because his stare follows Violet for slightly too long.

“Hey, Violet,” Trixie shouts from the other side of the room and Pearl interrupts his fight with his garment to observe the interaction. ”It seems like you’ve lost one of your contacts. I can see your brown eye from here.”

Violet glares at Trixie like his existence personally offends everything that Violet holds dear to his heart and Pearl turns his eyes chuckling to himself under his breath.

Trixie is hysterical. He likes Trixie a ton.

He’s not so sure about Violet.

And then, of course, RuPaul tells them that they’re to create a tearaway that reveals a naked illusion, because fourteen naked drag queens apparently counts for good television nowadays. Roxxxy Andrews would had rocked this one.

Violet’s interpretation of naked _illusion_ is another piece of duct tape and this time around Pearl stares shamelessly as the other queen returns from the main stage.

“Like what you’re seeing?” Violet whispers into Pearl’s ear when they pass each other. “Good, because you’ll be seeing a whole lotta more of this.”

Pearl rolls his eyes and pointedly stares at Violet’s ass as Violet goes.

Violet is a fucking show off with an awful personality and a really nice ass and Pearl is fascinated and oddly worked up. He knows he’s screwed right about then.

**II**

The second thing Pearl realises about Violet is that Violet is a flirt.

When they get past Violet’s standoffish attitude, shady ass comments, bitchy resting face, and habit to shoot whatever’s on his mind right into anyone’s face, all of which Pearl now believes to have been just a poorly developed defence mechanism, Violet is actually a flirty, delightful, and lovely person with a huge heart, a sharp mind, and a tendency to bat eyes at absolutely everything and everyone.

Violet will flirt with anybody. He flirts with the camera guy, the audio guy, the girl who gives them the time check, and the guy whose only task seems to be to bring Katya his daily fix of Red Bull. He flirts with Miss Fame, Max, and, Pearl’s pretty sure, with his own reflection at times.

Pearl’s not even sure if the half of Violet’s flirting is intentional. Maybe the flirting has become so intertwined with the rest of Violet’s personality that he doesn’t even realise it himself anymore. Maybe he just sounds like he’s proposing something without actually proposing it. Maybe Pearl shouldn’t spend this much time thinking about Violet and his stupid flirtatious face.

Except Pearl can’t not think about Violet and his stupid flirtatious face because Violet has been mercilessly flirting with him for the past weeks, too, and Pearl has made the mistake of letting Violet get under his skin and there’s no turning back anymore.

It’s episode ten and there’s only six of them left and they’re in the workroom gathered around one of the tables waiting for the further commands from the producing team.

“So,” Ginger says. “This just keeps coming up but which queen, present or already eliminated, would you sleep with from our season?”

“I’d choose Trixie,” Katya says without thinking. Trixie mouths _I'd marry you_ at him and makes a heart shape with his fingers.

“I’d do Pearl,” Violet says nonchalantly, looking Pearl straight in the eye. “I’d actually ride him, get my thighs right on that price.”

Pearl chokes, blushes, and giggles into his hands all at the same time, but his reaction is luckily overshadowed by Katya who barks out a loud laughter that makes him throw his head back, clap his hands, and then suddenly grab Trixie’s shoulder to steady himself because he almost falls over.

And then the whole conversation is interrupted by _She done already done had her’ses_ and Pearl is temporarily saved from further humiliation.

And then Violet is off to flirt with Katya while they tango wildly through the workroom and Pearl is left to twerk with Kennedy who keeps looking at him in a very disturbing fashion.

And a bit later Pearl is left alone in his hotel room with nothing else to do but replay the mental images created by Violet’s words in his head and it’s safe to say that even a cold shower doesn’t help an awkward situation happening in his pants.

**III**

The third thing Pearl realises about Violet is that Violet is a tease.

This time around he’s sure that it’s as much unintentional as it is intentional, because literally every single thing that Violet does is a fucking tease.

It. Is. _Literally_. Every. Single. Thing.

It’s the way Violet walks and talks. It’s the way he bends over to lift up something he’s dropped, his legs straight and his ass up in the air. It’s the way he spreads his legs to show Pearl his tuck and asks if his outfit is too revealing. It’s the way he cocks his head, pops his hip, and chews his lip. It’s the way he launches himself onto Pearl’s bed and rolls in his sheets wearing nothing but lingerie. It’s the way he smiles knowingly every time he does something that makes Pearl want to sit on his hanse to prevent himself from doing something stupid.

Violet fucking Chachki is a tease and well aware of it.

They’re done with the filming, have been done for months now, and it’s some kind of dinner thing with a bunch of other queens and some kind of managers and producers and just a group of people in suits and with serious expressions and Pearl has no idea what’s going on, but that’s nothing new, really. Pearl is generally very good at not knowing what’s going on, at any given moment or in his life in general. Somebody, probably Violet, just told him that he needs to be here, so he’s here. In full drag and still no idea what’s going on.

Said Violet sits across from him and keeps making eyes at Pearl all through the dinner. 

Pearl tries to concentrate on Sasha Belle next to him. 

He fails miserably.

After all, Sasha looks like Lady Bunny’s less fortunate half sister and Violet looks like he’s begging to be taken and ruined an Pearl is nothing more than a mortal human being with human needs and human reaction to distractions such as this one.

He makes it through the starters with at least some degree of dignity and staring atViolet only about half of the time. Then entry the main courses and he feels Violet’s foot sliding up his leg under the table, a heel against his tights, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep his cool in front of the others. It might fool everyone else around them, but the grin on Violet’s stupid face tells Pearl that he knows exactly what he’s doing to Pearl’s mental health.

Pearl nibbles his salad. Violet loses the heel and reaches the side of Pearl’s knee. Pearl loses his appetite for food.

Sasha says something. Pearl stares at him blankly. Violet turns to speak to Fame and slides his foot up Pearl’s thigh. Sasha has to repeat his question three times before Pearl even realises he’s being asked something. Violet slides his foot up and down. Pearl pushes his hand under the table and grabs Violet’s ankle before Violet reaches any further. Sasha looks at him funnily and Trixie pauses his conversation with Max to check if Pearl’s having a stroke. Pearl has to stop his silent fight with Violet’s leg in order to assure Trixie that there’s no need for medical assistance. Violet’s foot continues climbing up Pearl’s thigh, sliding under Pearl’s skirt. Pearl reconsiders that need of medical assistance.

“I've only got one question,” Katya says turning to Violet. “Have you managed to bed the infamous Pearl Liaison already?”

Pearl chunks his glass of wine. Violet’s foot ventures awfully close to Pearl’s erection. Pearl’s not sure if he’s more mortified or turned on.

“Not yet,” Violet tells Katya in a calm voice, like they’re discussing their preferred lash adhesives. “He’s been oddly resistant to have sex with me.”

“You’re not my type, Chachki,” Pearl sneers.

Katya laughs. Violet’s foot reaches Pearl’s erection. Pearl is quite sure his eyes roll to the back of his head at the needed contact.

“Oh really?” Violet says rubbing Pearl’s dick with a shit eating grin. “Because something tells me otherwise.”

And then he slides his foot down Pearl’s leg, breaks the contact, and turns back to Fame. Pearl wants to smash his head against his plate of salad.

Such a fucking tease.

**IV**

The fourth thing Pearl realises about Violet is that Violet is a kinky exhibitionist.

Violet loves all eyes on him, desires it, lives for it, breathes it, and doesn’t even try to conceal it. Violet is ready to do almost anything for the attention, to get people to look at him, to get people talking about him, to get them to remember him. Then again, if Pearl looked that appealing, he’d love all eyes on him, too.

The most annoying fucking thing is that Violet doesn't even have to do that much for the attention. He gets plenty of it by just being who he is.

“People should pay to see my face,” Violet tells Pearl every now and then.

“I’d pay for someone to shut your stupid fucking face, Chachki,” Pearl deadpans back every time. He’d probably be the first in line to pay to see Violet’s face if he didn’t have the privilege of knowing Violet personally. He’s such a sad fucker.

Violet flips him off and laughs every time because he knows how pathetic Pearl is.

They’re piled in the back of the tour bus, the Battle of the Seasons Tour in full progress. Pearl is sat on one of the couches, back against the armrest and knees pulled against his chest. Violet sits on Pearl’s toes, one arm wrapped around Pearl’s leg and other attached to his phone, scrolling through his Instagram feed.

“I’m bored,” Courtney whines breaking the silence.

“Let’s play truth or dare,” Adore suggests from the floor where he’s laying.

Michelle rolls her eyes and leaves to the front of the bus to Skype with David.

“I dare you to come up with something better or shut up,” Courtney whines again.

“Don’t talk to Adore in that tone,” Bianca growls.

They’re all silent again after that. Pearl stares at the darkness that surrounds them behind the window.

“I’m bored,” Courtney says again not five minutes later.

Violet sighs in exaggeration and tosses his phone away, eyeing Pearl with a mischievous smirk on his face.

“What now, Chachki?” Pearl grimaces. Everyone has paused whatever they were doing and is looking at them.

Violet just manoeuvres himself into Pearl’s lap without a word. Pearl’s terrified of where this seems to be going.

“What are you doing?” Pearl tries again.

“Giving these bitches some entertainment,” Violet says coyly, places his lips upon Pearl’s, and kisses him.

Pearl freezes. Violet bites Pearl’s lower lip gently. Pearl weights his options. He could easily push Violet off of him or sink his teething Violet’s lips and bite until Violet stopped this nonsense himself. Instead he does what any sensible person would do in this situation: grabs Violet’s hips to ground him and kisses Violet back.

Someone whistles. Someone else laughs. There’s clapping. Violet’s tongue slips into Pearl’s mouth. Pearl lets out a moan. Someone shouts something vulgar. Violet’s hands rest on Pearl’s shoulders. Pearl’s blood escapes his head. Violet wiggles his ass against Pearl’s dick. There’s more whistling and clapping. Violet ruins Pearl’s hair with his fingers. There’s five acrylic nails sinking into Pearl's neck.

“Keep it tucked, you two,” Michelle hisses from above them. “No kai kaing on the bus.”

Violet just shrugs and jumps back on the sofa next to Pearl.

“Show’s over,” he says bowing his head slightly and goes back to his phone. There’s more cheering, clapping, and vulgar shouts.

“Fucking party,” Adore says.

“Now I’m not only bored but also horny,” Courtney says.

Pearl bangs his head against the wall behind him. He needs a cigarette and probably a wank.

**V**

The fifth thing Pearl realises about Violet is that Violet is a shady, cunty bitch. Then again, that is kind of a given. So he guesses the fifth thing he realises about Violet is that this shady, cunty bitch is his best friend.

It’s a funny realisation, because Pearl wasn’t looking for friends, wasn’t looking for anything but maybe a good time, some makeup, and a hundred grand. Instead he got an annoying slut for a best friend. Instead he got someone who understands him, balances him out, teaches him something every single day, makes it all worth his while and energy. He’s a cliché who auditioned for RuPaul’s Drag Race and ended up participating in and fucking winning RuPaul’s Best Friend Race instead.

He’s laying on the bed in his hotel room, absent-mindedly checking his social media. A bunch of them has gone clubbing after the show, but Pearl is too exhausted and chose to stay in tonight instead, claiming that he’d have an early night. It’s well past midnight already and he’s still busy doing absolutely nothing.

There’s a knock on his door. He gets it to find tipsy Violet leaning against the frame of it.

“I’m horny,” he informs Pearl.

“I’m not having sex with you,” Pearl informs him back and still lets Violet in.

“Why are you such a buzzkill, Pearly,” Violet complains while raiding Pearl’s mini bar.

Pearl just rolls his eyes and falls back onto bed, leaning against the headboard, and fishes his phone from between covers and pillows. Violet kicks his heels off and tosses his wig somewhere, then proceeds to remove his makeup.

“Help me with my corset?” he says climbing on top of Pearl’s legs.

Pearl sighs, sits up and brings his hands to the back of Violet’s corset, starts to loosen it without looking, doesn’t have to look because he’s done it so many times before. Violet stares Pearl in the eye, his breath deepening with Pearl’s every firm move. Pearl dumps the corset on the floor next to the bed once he’s done with it and a little relieved sigh leaves Violet’s lips.

“My bra, too?” Violet smiles and Pearl slides his hands up Violet’s back, undoing the bra without breaking the eye contact and tosses it on the floor. This feels an awfully lot like a foreplay.

Violet leans closer to Pearl on his hands and knees. Pearl just stares and tries to remember how to breathe. Violet closes the distance between their lips and kisses Pearl. Pearl pushes his fingers into Violet’s curls and kisses him back.

This is nothing new. They’ve made out before. multiple times after that very first time on the bus. Usually when they’re both drunk, sometimes when they’re sober, too. Almost without an exception when Violet’s bored or horny. It’s fine. It’s just two best friends fooling around when they’re on the road and crave human contact, warmth, and intimacy. It doesn’t mean anything, doesn’t have to mean anything. They don’t have to define this, don’t have to come up with stupid names or limits or rules for them.

Violet pushes his hand under Pearl’s shirt, slides it up his stomach, gently twists Pearl’s nipple , and lets his hand wander on Pearl’s chest and sides. Pearl pulls Violet’s hair. Violet lets out a shameless moan at that. Pearl tugs again. Violet grinds his hips against Pearl’s dick. It’s Pearl’s turn to moan.

“I want you inside of me,” Violet whispers into Pearl’s open mouth.

“I want that, too,” Pearl says breathlessly.

“You want what?” Violet teases sliding his hand up Pearl’s thigh.

“I want to fuck you, Violet. I want you,” Pearl says.

“Okay,” Violet says leaning away from Pearl. “Now that that’s established, I’m gonna go to sleep.”

He climbs over Pearl and collapses onto bed next to him. Pearl stares at Violet in pure disbelief, chest rising and falling violently and dick painfully awake and interested.

“Are you for real?” he demands.

“You said you won’t have sex with me,” Violet claims pulling covers over himself.

“I changed my mind,” Pearl groans.

“Nah,” Violet yawns. “That train passed, Pearly. I’m tired.”

“I hate you, Chachki,” Pearl scoffs.

“No, you don’t,” Violet says in a tone that lets Pearl know that the conversation is over now. “G’night.”

Pearl buries his face in a pillow and lets out a loud groan. He fucking hates his shady, cunty bitch of a best friend.

**VI**

Pearl has realised a lot of things about himself during his life.

When he was three years old, his sister jump scared him and he realised that he has a beating heart because he could feel it beating in his throat. When he was eight, he realised that he’s different from anyone else, different from his sisters, different from his peers, different in a way that has and will make people stare at him. When he was sixteen, he had his first anxiety attack and he realised he hated being different. When he was eighteen, he realised that it was easier for him to hide his pain and fears under layers of indifference and apathy. When he was nineteen, he realised that there’s nothing wrong with him. When he was twenty-three, he realised his difference might just be the best thing ever.

Pearl is twenty-five when he realises something huge about himself.

It comes in small bits and pieces, luckily, because it’s a lot to handle.

The first bit happens suddenly, without any warning. They’re watching some movie, he and Violet, and Violet laughs at some stupid thing and Pearl finds himself unable to take his eyes off of him.

“What?” Violet asks, the remains of laughter still in his eyes and voice.

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” Pearl just shakes his head and smiles.

It’s not nothing. He’s in love with Violet’s laughter, he realises. He can’t imagine his world without Violet’s laughter, doesn’t want to, wouldn’t want to continue his life without it.

The next bit happens when he’s having one of his anxiety attacks. They’re so rare nowadays, but they’re still scary and awful and leave him feeling small and insignificant and broken for days afterwards. What's different from all the previous times is that Violet is there for him this time around. He holds Pearl through it, whispers the exact things Pearl needs to hear, grounds him in a way that nothing has ever grounded Pearl before.

The realisation hits him hours after his attack has passed, when Violet is snoring into his shoulder, arms wrapped securely around Pearl and chest pressed against Pearl’s back.

It is the way Violet makes him feel. Like everything is alright, like Pearl is fine, like they’re both gonna be just fine. He makes Pearl feel safe, and loved, and grounded, and like he’s not alone anymore, like it’s them now, them against the world. And for all Pearl knows, the world can keep coming at them, because there’s nothing he can’t do as long as Violet’s by his side.

He is in love with the way Violet makes him feel.

The distance between that realisation and the next one isn’t that long, but it feels like a thousand miles.

It happens when Pearl is watching Violet perform once. Violet is so fucking beautiful when he performs, like he was born to do this, like there’s nothing else that could fit him this well, like performing is in his blood and bones, in the air he breathes. There’s a light in Violet’s eyes when he performs, a kind of light that is magical, mesmerising to look at, that lights up something inside of Pearl, too.

Pearl loves watching Violet perform.

Pearl loves the light in Violet’s eyes.

Pearl loves Violet.

Pearl is in love with Violet.

It’s like a punch in the gut that leaves Pearl gasping for air and blindly reaching for something to hold on to. It’s like a gulp of fresh air in his lungs, so needed yet so shocking and unexpected that it hurts. It’s like seeing a beacon after a while in total darkness, blinding at first but so fucking relieving.

He wants to run away. He wants to stay and scream. He wants to take his realisation back, forget he’s ever had it. He wants to remember this moment for the rest of his life, pinpoint it, make it the focal point of his very existence. He wants to keep it to himself, never let anyone in onto his secret, never share it with anyone in the fear that sharing will somehow dull and exhaust the brightness of this. He wants, needs to tell someone, right now.

“I love him,” he says stupidly to Alaska who is standing next to him.

“I know,” Alaska says, clearly less impressed by this than Pearl is.

“No,” Pearl says trying to make Alaska understand, not knowing why Alaska doesn’t understand. “I’m in love with him.”

“I know,” Alaska repeats. “I don’t think I’m the one you should be telling that, though.”

It’s hours before Pearl gets Violet alone. It’s a crowded dressing room, and then it’s a bunch of fans and signatures and photos at the back door, and then it’s an afterparty and a lot of free drinks and shared cigarettes, and everyone wants a piece of Violet, everyone wants their share of that brilliance and luminosity and Pearl can’t even blame then because he knows what it feels like to exist so close to Violet, to crave even a tiny reflection of all that shine and glow.

So it’s hours before Violet interlaces their fingers and whispers a teasing _Your place or mine tonight, stranger?_ into Pearl’s ear, and it’s even more hours and they’re laying in Pearl’s bed, naked and high on the remains of adrenaline and excitement before Pearl’s finally gathered enough courage to say anything.

“I love you,” he says into the crook of Violet’s neck.

“I love you, too,” Violet says combing Pearl’s hair with his fingers.

Pearl detaches himself from Violet and sits up. Why is no one reacting to his confession in a way it deserves tonight?

“No, you don’t get it,” he says. “I love you. I'm in love with you. I’m in love with your stupid face, and the way you flirt with anything that crosses your path. I’m in love with the way you drive me crazy with your stupid ass teasing, and I’m in love with the fact that you’re the biggest show off I know. You’re my best friend, but you’re so much more, too.”

Violet just looks at him, expression unreadable. “I’m not sure if you’re trying to insult me or confess your love.”

“Come on now, Chachki,” Pearl rolls his eyes.

“I’m in love with you, too,” Violet makes it sound like it’s not a big deal at all. “Have been for quite some time now.”

And then he pulls Pearl into a hug, and Pearl smiles like a fool, because it’s Violet, it’s his stupid show-off-flirt-tease-exhibitionist-shady-cunty-bitch-best-friend and they’re in love, and it’s not perfect, they’re not perfect, but they’re real and they’re in love and that’s more than enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Your feedback gives me all the life I need <3


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